


Places You Will Find Me

by Lidsworth



Series: Down in the Valley [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:15:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidsworth/pseuds/Lidsworth
Summary: A reborn, redeemed Mairon seeks to make amends with all elves he had wronged in Middle Earth as Sauron.Finrod was easier than expected, and Celebrian, though quite reluctant at first, was eventually forgiving. Maedhros refused to open his door.Now Mairon stands hesitantly before the elf he had wronged the most, Celebrimbor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me out of the blue and I had to write it. I started it at midnight and didn't finish till the morning, so bare with me with errors. I've been really interested in redeemed Mairon and his interactions with the elves he's hurt. So, that's what this series will be about. 
> 
> I wanted to start with Celebrimbor though. Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to leave a kudos if you did, or a comment!
> 
> check it out on [my tumblr ](http://inkstranger.tumblr.com/post/150826273004/title-places-you-will-find-me-summary-a-reborn#notes)

“So this is how you really look?” Celebrimbor’s tone is curious when he turns towards the redheaded maia that stands rigid at the threshold of his forge, lips dry and thin on his freckled face, “We look as if we could be related.”  
The attempt at humor does little to ease the discomfort both feel at Mairon’s unexpected presence, and suddenly, the urge to forgo the conversation and stick with his previous resolve settles in. He does not want to be here anymore, for he feels unworthy.

Gulping dryly, the Maia’s fingers tighten around the wooden frame, and nervously he chews at his bottom lip.  
“I was going to leave.”

The elf’s breathe hitches slightly as Mairon speaks, for the voice so melodic and familiar, seems oddly unfitting for the meek cowering creature just outside of his workshop. He imagines it better fits a golden haired Lord rather than Aule’s former servant.

“And what good what that do you?” Celebrimbor brings his arms across his chest, eyebrow raised skeptically, “I believe this conversation is long overdue, is it not?”  
  


Finally the maia’s shoulders slouch and his fingers fall gently from the frame. Celebrimbor had _known_ he was coming, everybody had. Mairon had made himself rather public in apologizing to those he had wronged as Sauron—it was not ordered by the Valar, nor was it recommended.

But he had been tired of the sins of the Ainur upon the Firstborn being left unattended.

Finrod had been one of the first, followed by Celebrian. Maedhros would not even see him, and he had assumed Tyelpe would follow his uncle’s footsteps. Unfortunately, he had been wrong.

Though he spoke, Tyelpe does not move. In fact, for a long while, neither move, and Mairon brings his weary eyes to the hard gaze of the last Feanorian. He is assessing the situation, weighing the pros and cons of reopening old wounds, wounds which they would both rather avoid.

Yet this has to be done, _must_ be. For both Mairon and Tyelpe.

“Do the laws of this land not prohibit you from stepping foot inside of a Forge? Come, let us go into the main house,” Finally the elf breaks his silence, stepping forward as the maia clumsily moves to the side, “I would not want a good intention of yours to see you imprisoned once again.”

Tyelpe is far too kind and considerate for Mairon’s liking, just as he has always been. The guilt that follows is inevitable, and Mairon fears that Celebrimbor is only going through with this apology due to obligation.  

“I’m sorry.” He says suddenly, just as Celebrimbor is closing the door to his work station, “I—I—you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You do not have to forgive me. I know you, you’ll just do it because you think it’s the right thing, not because—“  
  
“You are not the only one who has changed since then, Annatar,” his voice is thick as he pulls the key from the door, and bears his harsh gaze at the maia,  “If I forgive you, it _will_ be because I want to, not because anyone else wants to or because it is expected of me. I am not the elf I was in Eregion who lived for others, Annatar. He died when you shot orc arrows through his body and tied him upon a banner. You did not even know him then, so do not assume you know me now. ”

He speaks like a true Feanorian, with fire—hot and deadly—words scorching at the worker Maia below him.  His fea is hot and angry, like the thick smoked forges of Angband. The maia, who averts his gaze in shame, nearly turns on his heels, quite confident that Celebrimbor will surely ask him to leave, for this elf is very reminiscent of his grandfather.

“But I am not my grandfather or my uncle, and I will not hold your sins against you. At least _you_ have made an effort,” His furrowed brows relax, and the proximity between them both cools slightly, “Forgiving you will not be easy, Mairon.”

Blue eyes dart upward at the mention of his new name, his original one, “But if I can forgive my father and my uncles, and my grandfather, then surely, I can forgive you.”

He walks away briskly, not looking back to see if the maia follows him.

Yet with shaky legs, the spirit scurries behind the elf.

“I hear that you and Finrod had a duet,” he begins as he rounds the corner, “I should like to hear about it over tea and biscuits. If I remember correctly, of all the things you could ingest, those happened to be your favorites. Or was that a lie as well?”

“No, I do like them, a lot,” Mairon scurries beside the elf.

Tyelpe smiles, “That’s good. I’m glad some things haven’t changed.”

 _You’d be surprised_ , Mairon doesn’t say this out loud, instead, follows the elf into his home, _you are very much the same, Tyelpe._

**Author's Note:**

> I started this at midnight and finished it this morning and though I’ve read it a million times, there’s probably still errors. I like the idea of redeemed Mairon and reborn Tyelpe. This is a part of a series called “Places You Will Find Me”, based off of the song Down in the Valley by the Head and the Heart. I’ll write Finrod’s part, and Celebrian’s one day.
> 
> Maedhros’s is pretty simple. He slammed the door in his face.


End file.
